Fratello
by Greydon Creed
Summary: YAHF/Gunslinger Girl x-over. To cheer up a depressed Dawn, Xander asks her to be his partner when they dress up for Halloween. The results exceed everyone's expectations, including the Monks of Dagon and Ethan Rayne.
1. Chapter 1

**Fratello**

_Title: Fratello_

Author: Greydon Creed

E-Mail: YAHF. To cheer up a depressed Dawn, Xander asks her to be his partner when they dress up for Halloween. The results exceed everyone's expectations, including the Monks of Dagon and Ethan Rayne.  
  
_Rating: PG-13, for violence and flirting._

_Disclaimer: The BtVS characters belong to Joss Whedon and associated companies. The Gunslinger Girls characters belong to Yu Aida, Media Works and ADL Manga. No copyright infringement or financial profit intended. The story itself is for entertainment purposes only and belongs to me._

_Note: For the purposes of this story, I raised Dawn's age to 14, and made her a freshman at the same high school as Buffy, who is a junior at this time. While Dawn is the Key, and was placed with the Summers to protect her from the Knights and Glory, the monks changed the timeline to where a second daughter was born. So Dawn Marie Summers is a __**real**__ person. And while this __**is**__ a Dawn/Xander 'ship fic and there is only two years of age difference between the two, they are not going to be involved in a physical relationship unless/until they are both of legal age. There may be some unrequited attractions going on, but that will be the extent of it.  
_  
**Part One  
**  
He could hear someone crying.

Alexander 'Xander' Harris stopped where he was at the corner and looked around carefully. He could see no one close by on the sidewalk; the only other people near him were some adults fifty feet ahead of him. That meant that the sounds of crying were coming from the alley just ahead.

Contrary to what some people thought (a certain high school principal came to mind), Xander was not dumb. You could not live on the Mouth of Hell, the location of a mystical convergence of Dark Energy, fighting demons and vampires by being dumb. The closest person fitting that description would be Cordelia Chase, and even then she was trying to be in denial, not letting the strange goings-on affect her busy social life.

Xander KNEW that going into a dark alley just because you heard what sounded like a girl crying was high on the List of Really Dumb Things To Do In Sunnydale. But he could not just walk away from it either. He would not be the guy he was if he did.

So making sure that he stayed in the sunlight and somewhat distant from the building's corner, Xander slowly edged around and looked into the alleyway. A few feet from the street, crouched down on the ground in a strip of sunshine, he could see a young girl with her head buried in her hands, crying softly, her school knapsack on the ground beside her.

Looking at her for a moment, Xander moved toward her, his hand dropping into his jacket pocket and grasping the blessed cross therein. Because while Xander was about to have a (potentially) Dumb Moment, he was not stupid.

"Miss. . . Miss, are you OK?" Xander stopped a couple of steps away from the girl.

The girl looked up at the sound of his voice, and Xander quickly realized that A) there were tears streaming down her face, B) it was Dawn Summers, and C) her long brown hair was. . .

"Xander!!!" The girl sprung up and into his arms, nearly knocking him over. Xander almost panicked, thinking she was attacking him, before he noticed that she had pushed them into bright sunlight and was therefore not a vamp looking for some fast food.

"Oh Dawnie. . ." Xander held the sobbing teen against his shoulder, his hand coming up to stroke her hair. Her wildly discolored, two toned hair. "What happened to you, Dawnie? What happened to your hair?"

It took a few more moments of sobbing before Dawn was able to tell the story, but it was one to make Xander's blood boil. Apparently, Dawn had been involved in a feud with Serenity Kendall, Harmony's younger sister and Dawn's classmate. The blonde had been jealous of the younger Summers' looks, made even worse by the fact that Dawn was not trying to upstage the other high school freshman.

Serenity had always been making snarky and catty comments to Dawn, especially around her budding group of would-be Cordettes. In a combination of both trying to maintain the moral high ground and an unwillingness to make the same cutting and derogatory remarks the other girl excelled in, Dawn would ignore her. This came to a head at lunch that day when Dawn was sitting by herself in the quad brushing her long brown hair.

Angered by the fact that Dawn looked at and then away from her while still brushing her hair, Serenity had been advancing toward the younger Summers girl when a teacher had walked up to Dawn to asker her a question about an assignment she had turned in. In passing, Mrs. Jennison complemented Dawn on her beautiful waist length hair before turning to Serenity and asked her if she had wanted to ask her something. Red-faced, the would-be popularity queen turned and stormed off.

Later that day, Dawn learned that Serenity had one thing in common and one thing that set her apart with her older sister - a vicious streak and a willingness to actually get physical about it.

While Dawn was walking out of the PE locker room by herself after some trouble getting her apparently jammed locker open, she found herself being pelted by water balloons. One burst on her front left shoulder while another hit her in the middle of her shoulders. Dawn had thought it was just some kids screwing around when she noticed that the red sweater she was wearing was starting to rapidly discolor. Running to a mirror, Dawn saw in horror that the hair that had been splashed by the balloon that had hit her in the back was starting to turn bleached blonde yellow. The water balloons had been filled with hydrogen peroxide.

After trying to report the incident to Principal Snyder, and being summarily dismissed as the sister of Buffy Summers and therefore a possible troublemaker and liar, Dawn had fled the school in tears, stopping to cry in the alley Xander had found her in.

After hearing all this, Xander was barely able to keep his voice steady when he asked, "Have you told anyone else about this, Dawnie?"

The teen shook her head, wiping at her face. Being held by her secret crush while she was crying her eyes out felt good, but she had to try and not look like a immature little girl.

"Well, let's go see your Mom and tell her what happened." Mrs. Summer's art gallery was a block from where they stood.

"But what is she going to do about it now? Principal Snyder doesn't believe me."

"Trust me, after your Mom hears about this, Snyder's not going to know what hit him." Xander had visions of Mrs. Summers bashing Spike with a fire ax at the high school Parent Appreciation Night running through his mind. As he put his arm around the teen and started to guide her toward the gallery, Xander idly wondered if he should pre-position another ax near Snyder's office.

-The Next Day-

Wandering around the isles in the new costume shop, Xander only paid half a mind to what Willow and Buffy were saying. Given what he knew about them, Xander was sure that Willow was going to wear her standard 'don't look at me' ghost costume, while Buffy would wear something appropriately slutty and hot on the one night a year where such apparel was not only accepted, but encouraged. Looking over at where Buffy was fluttering over an eighteenth-century gown while talking about Angel, Xander was forced to revise that thought slightly - the dress would have been slutty two hundred years ago due to it's low neckline, while it was certainly hot in that the 'lady' in question had to wear several layers of petticoats under the thing and a tall wig to achieve the desired look. About the only thing it had going for it was that a whalebone corset was not involved.

Looking over at Dawn, who was looking sadly in the mirror, Xander sighed to himself. Seeing Mrs. Summers earlier that day in full dudgeon against the Troll of Sunnydale High had been a thing of beauty. The opening barrage of the angry mother upon entering the administrative offices had caused some of the hardened school clerks to instinctively duck and cover under their desks.

Snyder had tried to bluster his way through the situation, stating that there was no proof that anything had happened other than the word of one student who had a sister who was a known troublemaker. This resulted in a new salvo from Joyce Summers about how people should be judged by their own merits, and not by unproven allegations against relatives.

It had looked like Mrs. Summers and Herr Snyder had worked themselves into a deadlock where Joyce was demanding that Serenity Kendall and her friends be at least questioned to see if they were involved in the incident and the Troll refusing unless there was evidence which would link the girls to the incident. That is where the long shot odds finally kicked in.

Mr. Johnson, the Chem teacher, had come into the office to ask the principal's secretary about repairs that had been scheduled for this morning but had not been completed. Upon hearing that the supply closet had been broken into after lunch the previous day, Xander, who was keeping a depressed Dawn company on a bench outside Snyder's office, had an epiphany.

Running to the quad and the payphone located there, Xander quickly called Mrs. Summers on her cell phone and relayed the info he knew about, which included the fact that Serenity and her friends had that class after lunch and the contents of the closet.

When Mrs. Summers clicked her cell phone shut and began to calmly ask Snyder about the supply closet break-in, the principal began to sweat. Once Joyce began to list the various materials in the closet, which included acids, solvents, flammable liquids, as well the aforementioned hydrogen peroxide, the sewer rat that walked like a man knew he had a problem. The proof he had been demanding was beginning to present itself, but he knew that he could not afford to accuse the children of some of the richest families in Sunnydale of this.

Thinking quickly, a nervous Snyder asked for a few hours to look into the incident again. Joyce curtly gave him until the end of the school day, mentioning in passing that her business with her lawyer would be done by then. Snyder quickly agreed, promising to call her with the results. The Summers matriarch then sailed from the admin offices, a slightly smiling Dawn trailing behind her.

Later that day, five minutes before the deadline, Snyder called Mrs. Summers and gave her the news. There had not been enough evidence to prove that the group of girls had been behind the incident, but the parents had been so upset they were willing to offer compensation for the damage sustained by Dawn. In reality, it was a payoff for the Summers family to drop the issue. However, Snyder realized that Mrs. Summers would probably refuse and get the lawyers moving if it was presented to her that way, so Snyder rephrased the offer. Mrs. Summers, no fool, saw right through the offer, but she also realized that she had only a slim chance of winning if she tried to take legal action. So a grim Joyce Summers picked up a check from a nervous principal in the amount of one thousand dollars, made out by the Kendall family. 

Dawn was not happy on how the incident had been dealt with, but after her mother gently explained that this was as good a deal as they were going to get, the teen was resigned to it. Not even the offer of a styling session at Sunnydale's most expensive hair salon cheered her up very much. Her mood was not helped by the resulting hair cut she had received. The damage from the hydrogen peroxide had been so extensive that dyeing the hair back to it's previous color was not possible. Since Dawn refused out of hand to bleach the rest of her hair to match what had been done, as a result Dawn's waist length chestnut hair, which she had been her pride and joy, was cut to collar length.

Watching the sad eyed girl looking in the mirror, Xander could not help but be reminded of someone. He had brought her along with him to the new costume shop in a attempt to cheer her up, but it was obviously failing. After a heartfelt hug to her little sister, Buffy now had other things on her mind. Willow gave the younger Summers a sympathetic look every once in a while, but she was busy trying to keep up with her best friend.

Xander was looking at Dawn out of the corner of his eye when the memory finally clicked. Realizing who Dawn reminded him of now, Xander decided to do something with it, since it would both cheer up Dawn and help him with his costume.

Stepping up behind Dawn, Xander put his hand on her shoulder, watching her hazel eyes snap up and meet his dark brown ones in the mirror.

"I know you don't believe this Dawnie, but you really do look good. And your hair will grow back."

"I know Xander. It's just that I've always had long hair." Dawn ran her hand along the back of her head, not used to feeling cool air on her neck. "One of the earliest things I remember is Dad helping me brush it when I was little."

Ah, that was the problem. One of the few links to her absent father was now laying in a hair salon trash basket, save for an undamaged lock that she had woven into a bracelet she was now wearing,

"I wanted to ask you to help me with something," Dawn slowly turned and looked up at Xander. "I have an idea for a costume, but I need a cute girl to help me with it."

"What about Willow and Buffy? Can't they help?" Inside Dawn was jumping up and down in glee at being called 'cute' by Xander, but her mind was comparing herself to the two older girls and found herself wanting.

"They have other plans, but they didn't come to mind when I thought of this. You did."

By this point Dawn was doing cartwheels and back flips in her head. She managed to keep her voice steady though. "What do you need for me to do?"

"Well, the costume I came up with is based on a Japanese manga I read. I would wear a suit and you would wear a outfit I saw them selling here. With some other items we can buy here, we'll be all set."

"Where would you get the suit? And which outfit?" Dawn looked at the costume rack they were standing next to.

"My cousin Rigby owes me a favor, so I can get the suit from him. This is the outfit I was thinking of." Xander pulled a blouse and skirt set on a hanger and handed it over to Dawn.

Checking the size of the outfit, Dawn saw that it would fit her, and looked up at Xander again. "What's the character you had in mind?"

Once Xander began to explain the manga story and the characters involved, Dawn began to smile and nod.

Unseen by the two teens, the owner of the shop, one Ethan Rayne, was standing off to one side listening to their conversation. Once he understood what the teens were talking about, and knowing that the girl was the younger sister of the Slayer, the smile on the chaos mage's face was decidedly sinister before he changed it to a more pleasant look as he walked over to assist the two teens.

-That Afternoon-

"Buona Notte, Signora Summers. I am here to escort your lovely daughter tonight."

Joyce Summers double-blinked at the boy. . . no, **man** who was standing before her door.

The man was wearing a beautifully tailored Italian suit, made of dark brown wool, a slightly lighter brown tie against the crisp white shirt. A quick glance downward noted the glossy black shoes that looked expensive but were really highly polished boots.

Looking back at the man's face, Joyce was about to ask who he was when she paused. The smile beneath the warm brown eyes and the carefully styled hair was changing, from a polite smile to a familiar lopsided grin. "Xander?!?!"

"Hi, Mrs. Summers. Guess the suit really does make the man, huh?"

"You have no idea. I totally didn't recognize you." Joyce said. _'And if you were ten years older or I was ten years younger, I would be all over you, young man. Maybe the hair dye really is getting to Buffy if she is passing you up.'_ Joyce thought to herself. Collecting herself, she called up the stairs, "Buffy! Your escort is here!"

"Um, Mrs. Summers, I'm here for. . ." Xander's voice trailed off as Buffy came down the stairs dressed in her frilly dark red monstrosity, a tall black wig perched on her head. Seeing all this, Xander mentally reconfirmed his preferences of girls in spandex. Seeing that Buffy was awaiting a comment on her appearance, Xander followed Guy Rule #1 of Dealing With Girls - LIE. "Hey there, Buff, looking good."

"Thank you, kind sir." Buffy executed a passable curtsy, before focusing on Xander's suit. "Wow, where'd you get that? Who are you supposed to be?"

Xander tilted his head slightly as he answered. "I borrowed the suit from my cousin. I'm a character from a Japanese comic book." Xander would have said more, but Buffy looked up the stairs and called out, "Willow, time to go," before turning back to Xander. "Willow's costume is so. . ." Buffy's voice trailed off as a sheet-clad ghost with the word 'Boo!' printed on the front came down the stairs.

"Traditional?" Xander offered. He knew that unless someone held a gun to her head, Willow was always going to go with the safe and comfortable. "Hey Wills, mighty scary 'Boo!' you got there."

"Thanks, Xander," came the muffled voice under the sheet. "You guys ready to go?"

"Nope, waiting for the lovely young lady I am escorting tonight." Xander's voice shifted from jester to a faint European accent in the span of one sentence.

Before Buffy could ask who that was, the stairs creaked as one last person walked down to join them. Looking up, all four of them froze.

Descending was a young girl dressed in a European style school girl uniform. The long sleeve white blouse was buttoned to the top with a string tie around the neck. The pleated skirt was of a solid dark green with a faint red line of piping near the hem. A matching short coat was folded over one arm as both hands gripped the handle of a violin case with the word 'Amati' printed in white along the side in front of her. Knee-high white stockings and Mary Jane shoes completed the outfit. But what had stopped everyone cold was what had been done to the outfit.

Dawn had used her minor talent in sewing to raise the hem of the skirt. What Xander remembered as a knee length skirt was now a hair past mid-thigh. The blouse had been carefully tucked into the waistband to make it look tighter than it was, emphasizing her slender waist.

Given that Dawn was already half a head taller than her older sister, with this outfit and legs that looked like they went on for days, Dawn looked like a cleaned up version of a Japanese hentai anime schoolgirl fantasy.

In the silence, Dawn's voice was able to carry as she softly said, "Buona Notte, Giuseppe," looking up and through her bangs, her eyes looking bigger with subtle make-up.

Xander blinked, then blinked again. After one more blink, Xander was able to find his voice and answer. "Buona Notte, Henrietta."

The silence in the entryway was suddenly broken by the babble of the three other women all talking at once.

"Dawn Marie Summers! What are you wearing?!?!" came from a shocked Joyce.

"Dawn! Where did you get that outfit!?!?" Buffy sounded upset that her sister was wearing a hotter costume than she was.

"Oh My!" Was all that came from Willow, who even as she was shrouded in her sheet, you could feel envy pouring off at how good the younger girl looked.

"Dawn, what are you supposed to be? I thought you were going to wear a school girl outfit, not. . ." Joyce waved her hand at Dawn, ". . .that."

"I am a school girl. When I got home I noticed that the hem on the skirt was not even, and I thought that instead of returning the whole costume I could straighten it out myself." Dawn had the most innocent puppy-dog eyes look on her face as she said this. "I had to shorten the skirt a little. What, didn't I do a good job?" Dawn spun around slowly, the violin case in one hand and the coat in the other, the skirt flaring slightly before dropping back into place.

"I think you did too good a job on it, Dawn. What if your skirt flips up on you?" asked Buffy curiously.

"Meh." Dawn shrugged dismissively. "I'm wearing spandex bike shorts under this, so it's OK." A sudden cough suddenly attracted everyone's attention from the school girl.

Xander had stood stock still while the womenfolk were talking. Inside his head however, he was busily alternating between mentally doing Sam Kinison howls at how hot Dawn looked in that getup and mentally slamming his head against a wall for being a hentai perv. _'This was the Slayer's younger sister, for crying out loud! If he even looked at her wrong, Buffy would tear him to pieces, and Joyce would incinerate what was left!'_ But when Dawnie casually mentioned she was wearing spandex under that almost illegally short skirt, his mouth and throat had dried out so fast he had to cough to be able to breathe.

Seeing that all three females were looking at him, Xander quickly came up with the best non-fake-looking smile he could. "You look nice in that, Dawnie. You're ready to go, right?" Xander prayed to whatever deities existed that none of the females figured out what he was thinking, as his body would never be found afterwards.

"Where are you going again?" Joyce normally trusted Xander around her daughters, but with Dawn in that outfit, she was a **little** concerned. Although more about what her younger daughter might do around her older crush than the other way around.

"We're going to be escorting elementary school kids as they trick-or-treat around the neighborhood. After that, we were going to hang out at the Espresso Pump before we come back here. All four of us are going to be together there and when we come back." Xander was starting to be a little worried. It sounded like Mrs. Summers might not allow Dawn to hang with them after all, and that would send her spiraling back into depression.

"Well. . . ok. Just get back here by 9:00 PM." Joyce looked from Xander to Dawn, seeing the relief appear on the girl's face, while some tension eased from Xander's eyes.

"Thanks Mom!" chirped Dawn as she sprang forward and gave her mom a kiss on the cheek. Putting the violin case on the floor, Dawn quickly pulled on the coat she was carrying, neatly concealing the small of the back holster and sheath that had been unseen until now.

"Uh, Dawn. What kind of school girl wears a gun under her coat?" Buffy asked uncertainly.

Joyce and Buffy watched as Dawn produced an orange-tipped pistol from under her jacket and tapped it, the sound of plastic apparent. "A Japanese comic book school girl, of course." Dawn stowed the pistol and picked up her violin case. That shop keeper had really come through. He didn't even blink when Xander has asked for two small handguns, two knives, and a SMG. Once Xander had explained why they needed the toy weapons, the Englishman had even thrown in a ratty old violin case for free.

Turning to Xander, Dawn's demeanor changed from cheerful California girl to demure European school girl in a heartbeat. "I am ready to go now, Giuseppe ."

Xander extended his left arm toward Dawn, who linked it with her own in a familiar but not intimate way. Looking like an older brother escorting his younger sister, the two turned in perfect sync and walked out the door, the noblewoman and ghost soon following.

**End Part One**


	2. Chapter 2

Fratello 02

**Part Two**

_Otherplace,  
Othertime._

Janus looked as he felt a strong pull on his power.

Most of his followers had died with the Roman Empire, but there had been a few left throughout the centuries that he would feel asking for his help. Unfortunately, most of these were Dark Mages, cloaking their desire for death and destruction with words of chaos and anarchy.

Chaos was neither good nor evil, positive or negative, creation or destruction. Chaos was the natural energy of the universe, either stored to be used at another time or used to perform acts.

That is why Good or Evil never held the upper hand for long. Chaos would eventually bring it down.

Without Chaos, the universe would truly be dead.

Looking at the actions of the Dark Mage on the blocked portal to the demon dimension, Janus could see what was pulling on his power.

The Key.

A fragment of pure Chaos energy. Tightly bound so that it's surroundings would not be affected. Energy that could be used to open dimensional gates.

But like the crude atomic energy devices that the humans had developed, the Chaos energy of the Key could be misused. Instead of opening gates, it could tear down the walls between dimensions. If done at a weak spot, multiple dimensions could collapse, starting a chain reaction that could very well bring everything down.

Janus wanted Chaos, not complete destruction.

Looking both into the past as well as the future, Janus could see why the Key was there. The insane acts of Glorificus, the desperate actions of the Monks of Dagon, the ruthless activities of the Knights of Byzantium. How desperately the Slayer and her friends fought to defend the Key. How close the walls came to completely collapsing.

This would not do.

Seeing what the Chaos spell was going to do, Janus was able to act.

The Gods were prohibited by the Creator to directly fight each other. The few times that the Gods fought each other directly had names that brought fear and terror to those unfortunate enough to know the truth.

Atlantis.

_Vesuvius__._

Ragnarok.

Armageddon.

But since a non-god was the one doing the spell, the Gods could act through them. Most of the Greek wars had been that way. Wars by proxy, resulting in horrific destruction and deaths. It had resulted in the collapse of the Greek city-states, taken over by the growing Macedonian empire, which eventually collapsed itself.

But now Janus could act. He would be able to help fight the actions of an insane goddess, of fanatical humans, of the half-blood human/demon remains hiding in the darkness.

Changing the energy being drawn from him, Janus could affect the spell. The Key would no longer be a helpless child, barely able to run, let alone defend herself. The Key would be like one of the Champions of old, defending herself and others.

Looking at those around the Key, Janus could see their souls. Most did not interest him. But there was one that did. A fiery soul, one that would defend others before himself.

Janus hesitated. If he linked the Key with the other human the same way the monks had linked the Key to the Slayer, it would affect Free Will. Not only was Free Will a major part of the Creator's beliefs, it was a major cause of Chaos.

A moment later, Janus made his decision. The two would not be linked. The other would be a Companion. One that would help the Key, but still have Free Will.

Satisfied, Janus finished the changes to his power. Looking down at the human realm, he released a glowing green orb and watched it speed toward it's target.

Matching smiles slowly crossed Janus' two faces. The God of Chaos had just helped protect the universe.

What was this otherplace coming to?  


Sunnydale,  
Early Evening.

"Giuseppe. . . Giuseppe. . . please wake up."

Giuseppe forced his eyes open as he heard the soft voice of his charge. Henrietta could be many things; happy, eager, sad, depressed. The one emotion he had never heard was the one now present; panicked.

Blinking his eyes, Giuseppe squinted as he saw Henrietta looking down at him. Taking stock of the situation, Giuseppe could feel that he was lying on cold pavement, that he had a major headache as though he had taken a serious blow to the head. Blinking again, Giuseppe tried to focus his eyes correctly, since he could not believe what he was seeing now.

Henrietta looked older. . . a lot older. Approximately 15 or 16 years old.

Which was plainly impossible. Giuseppe knew the cyborg specs almost as well as the techs that worked on them. The useful service life of the child cyborgs that Section 2 used did not extend past puberty. The rapid growth would cause massive disruptions of the carbon fiber framework and synthetic muscles used to produce the cyborg's strength, durability, and speed. In fact, the techs had come up with a protocol for determining the end of useful service life. Once the cyborg had met five of the criteria, they would be 'retired'.

Henrietta had met two of the criteria. Triela, the oldest of the cyborgs, had met three. Angelica, the first of the cyborgs and the one with the most problems, had met four.

Shaking his head to clear it of those thoughts, and gritting his teeth at the pain that produced, Giuseppe struggled to sit up. With a hand from Henrietta, he managed to stand.

Looking down at his charge, who was only half a head short than him now, Giuseppe fell back on his training, both in the Carabinieri and in SWA. "Henrietta, report."

"We were doing surveillance in an apartment across from a Padania safe house when there was a bright green flash of light, filling the room and blinding me. When I was able to see again, I found that I was standing on this street wearing different clothes than before and that you were lying unconscious at my feet. I picked you up and moved you to a safer area behind this wall, as there seems to be disorder on this street. It was at that time that I realized that your appearance had changed somewhat and I look and feel. . . different."

"How do you feel different, Henrietta?" Giuseppe could definitely see what was different about his charge, who looked as though she was now about 10 centimeters taller, standing 160 centimeters tall and looking like she weighed about 50 kilograms (5'5", 110 lbs).

"I feel. . . lighter. Stronger." Henrietta frowned for a moment. "Like if there was lower gravity."

Giuseppe gingerly started to pat himself, brushing off his suit as he did. He was wearing a nice brown suit, but it was certainly not the dark grey Armani he had put on this morning. He could feel his pistol under his coat, but it felt different, as though there was another weapon instead of what he was used to. However, his cell phone appeared to be missing, so there was no easy way to contact the Agency.

"Giuseppe? I want to try something. You know that I can jump ten feet up if I have a running start?"

"Yes, of course." Giuseppe watched as the girl took a few steps back.

"Well, I think I can do better now." With that Henrietta flexed her knees slightly and, without taking a step, shot six feet up in the air and flipped, her body rotating in a complete circle before landing lightly on her feet.

Giuseppe fought to keep his mouth from dropping open. That move was not believed to be possible by the cyborgs. Despite their small stature, the girls were twenty to twenty five kilos heavier than they appeared. Even with their augmented strength, they would not be able to make that kind of jump from a standing start, let alone back flip like she had done.

With a mental shake, Giuseppe cleared his mind of the dual shock he had received. Seeing Henrietta back flip was one thing. Seeing that she wore dark blue bicycle shorts under her short skirt was certainly something he did not want to know.

"There is something else, Giuseppe." Henrietta picked up her Amati violin case and presented it to him. "I remember leaving this on a table in the apartment we were doing the surveillance in, but I found it beside me right after the green flash. Please look inside."

Giuseppe popped the latches on the case and opened it. The case had been heavy when he took it from Henrietta and now he could see why. Inside was a FN P90 5.7mm submachine gun along with three extra ammo magazines for it, as well as an FN Five-seveN pistol of the same caliber with two extra magazines. A half dozen mini-flash grenades and what looked to be some spare magazines for Henrietta's SIG P239 9mm pistol filled the rest of the case.

"This is a full combat load, Henrietta. I take it you didn't place all this in the case?"

The girl shook her head. "No. I had the P90 and extra ammo for it and my SIG. I didn't put the pistol and grenades in."

Handing the case back to Henrietta, Giuseppe reluctantly drew his pistol from under his coat. He was almost not surprised to see that it was a Five-seveN pistol matching the one in the case instead of his normal carry SIG P239. Dropping the magazine, Giuseppe was surprised to see that it had the special 30 round magazine that he had heard was in development but was not in the field yet.

"I don't know what is going on here Henrietta, but the first thing we have to do is figure out where we are, and how we got here." Giuseppe looked around the street, seeing it did not look like an Italian, or even a European street.

"I am hearing people speaking English with an American accent. I am not hearing any regional American accents, though." Henrietta's enhanced hearing was almost at the level of a parabolic microphone.

"America, eh? A long way from home." Giuseppe moved from behind the wall they had been standing behind and saw for the first time that there were people running around, if not in a panic then certainly in fear. "What is going on here? Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"Given the lack of a current mission, my primary duty is to protect you, Giuseppe. That is what I did." Henrietta was looking at him with concern on her face.

Giuseppe mentally sighed. The conditioning that the cyborg girls had gone through has made protection of the cyborg handlers an overriding priority. Only an assigned mission or a direct order would keep the girls from protecting the handlers exclusively. But any hint of disappointment or upset would affect Henrietta, causing her to become withdrawn and depressed.

"You did the right thing, Henrietta. Now that I feel better, we can look into this." Giuseppe watched as a smile slowly blossomed on Henrietta's face. It seemed wrong somehow that his charge's emotions would be so easily affected by him, but it was a result of the conditioning that he could do little about.

On the other hand, he liked seeing a smile on Henrietta's face.

**End Part Two**


	3. Chapter 3

Fratello 03

**Part Three  
**  
Sunnydale,  
That Evening

Henrietta did not understand the feelings she was experiencing.

In the time that she had been with the Social Welfare Agency's Section 2 and been partnered with Giuseppe, she had felt the full gamut of emotions young girls feel; happiness, sadness, joy, depression, excitement, boredom. Even when she was on missions, she still felt some fear, nervousness, and anger.

What she was feeling in this new body was totally new to her.

After the green light had faded, and she saw her handler laying at her feet unconscious, she automatically reacted. Stumbling over her Amati violin case, she slung it without a thought and picked up Guiseppe in her arms. Even though he was twice her mass, the cyborg was able to easily carry the older man. That is when she realized that something was different.

Once she lay the unconscious man on the ground safely behind a wall and checked his pulse and breathing, Henrietta began to examine herself. She really could not say how she knew, but her arms and legs seemed longer, as though a couple of years of growth had happened all at once. She felt lighter on her feet, as though with one jump she could leap into the sky. But there was one more surprise.

She apparently had bosoms now.

Henrietta was not the youngest of the girls at Section 2; that distinction belonged to Rico. But even Triela, the oldest of the girls, was barely starting to develop in the chest area. Triela and Claes still wore training bras, as their chests had not required much support yet.

Not only did Henrietta have a chest now, she was wearing a brassiere as well. She could feel the straps on her shoulders and back.

Looking down at the twin mounds under her green jacket and white blouse, Henrietta stared at them for a moment before snapping out of it. Her new body's exploration could wait for another time. Giuseppe needed her help.

Kneeling down, Henrietta checked his pulse and breathing again. Hearing cries and screams far off in the distance, she pulled her violin case around and opened it, intending to retrieve some extra magazines for her pistol. The sight of the amount of arms and munitions in the case brought her to an abrupt halt.

The normal carry load for a cyborg was a pistol, two spare magazines, and a knife. Shoulder weapons were kept nearby if trouble was expected. The amount of ammo in this case however, was only carried if they were going to perform a large-scale raid, or if they were going to away from resupply for a while.

Hearing the screams getting closer, and what sounded like the howls of wild animals joining in, Henrietta was starting to get very nervous. She was alone with her unconscious handler, in an unknown location, with what appeared to be an altered body.

Crouching down to get close to Guiseppe's face, Henrietta was struck by the changes. The kindly slightly rounded face under his dark brown hair was now thinner, with what appeared to be the beginning of laugh lines at the corners of his eyes.

As the howls got closer, Henrietta placed her hand on Guiseppe's shoulder and began to gently shake him awake. "Guiseppe, Guiseppe, please wake up," she pleaded, frightened by the possibility that the inbound hostiles might overrun them if she was slowed by carrying Guiseppe.

Hearing Guiseppe groan as he began to wake up was one of the most welcome sounds she had heard. She watched as he opened his eyes and focused them on her. They opened wide for a few moments before he focused on her again and giving a short, abrupt nod, as if mentally confirming what he was seeing.

Once he had gotten up and asked for her to report, Henrietta felt to be back on safe ground. Covering the high points, she felt warm inside as he asked about her. She never failed to feel that when he showed his concern for her well-being.

But this warmth felt. . . different. It was not happiness that Guiseppe approved of her actions. And when she thought about it, it had not started when he asked about her. It began when he had taken her hand to help him stand up.

And after she did her experimental back flip, the warmth got worse. She had not realized that he would see under her skirt, and the realization was almost caused her face to burn brightly. It was only after a discreet pat revealed that she was wearing tight shorts under the skirt did she calm down. Thinking quickly, Henrietta showed Guiseppe the violin case with the extra weapons and munitions to get her mind off of her inadvertent show.

When Guiseppe asked why she had not investigated the activities around them and she had replied that her primary duty was to protect him, she began to realize something. The warmth she was feeling was somehow linked to her protection of her handler. And it seemed to have something to do with the close proximity between the two of them.

Were these feelings a physical reaction? It seemed that now that they were close or touched each other, the warmth in her chest would occur. It was not a warmth like she was overheating or had been out in the sun too long. It was like a warm blanket, something that felt good on a cold night.

Could this be part of her apparently rapid development? Henrietta had read how girls going through adolescence began to feel and experience emotions differently. She had not expected to go through this herself, as her operations before and after she was taken into the Social Welfare Agency had removed parts of her that would have been involved in her development.

Henrietta had always sought Guiseppe's approval; his smile or praise would have her walking on air. But now she wanted more, she wanted this physical warmth that she was now feeling, a warmth that came from his touch.

Hearing that Guiseppe wanted to investigate what had happened to them, Henrietta pushed all this to the back of her mind. As always, protecting Guiseppe came first. Completing the assigned mission would take precedence after that. Sorting out these new feelings she was experiencing was something she could do later.

Slinging her violin case over her shoulder, Henrietta drew her SIG 239 and held it in a low ready position. Seeing Guiseppe look at the pistol in her hand with no expression on his face, she looked back at him and in a voice totally at odds with her appearance, stated with utter conviction, "My duty is to protect you Guiseppe, and I will do so."

Guiseppe smiled faintly, and replied. "I know you will. And I will protect you as well." Drawing his Five-seveN pistol he looked off toward the left, missing the blush that came over Henrietta's face. Looking back at her, he said, "Let us go and see what that commotion is all about, shall we?"

Instinctively, Henrietta fell in beside Guiseppe as he started to move. The two began to walk toward what appeared to be the center of this town.

Sunnydale,  
Evening.

One of the first things Guiseppe learned when he was being trained as an member of the Carabinieri was to not show fear.

That was not to say that one could not feel fear. Fear was your body's way of saying that you were in danger. What one had to do was to work past fear so that you could do what was necessary even when you were feeling that emotion.

But not showing fear was almost as important as intelligence. Because there were situations where you could not show that you were afraid.

Dealing with sources, so that they continued working for you.

Dealing with enemies, so they would not be emboldened to run roughshod over you and yours.

And perhaps the most important, dealing with your people. Nothing brought down morale and inspired panic like having a commander who was visibly afraid.

In Guiseppe's case, there was a consideration beyond that. The cyborg girls were protective enough as it was. Seeing that their handlers were afraid was something that they did not want. It had not happened before, but it was believed that a situation like that could drive a cyborg into a killing frenzy, destroying anything and anyone they deemed a threat. 

Guiseppe had seen something close to it when Henrietta wiped out a Pandania terror cell almost single-handedly. At least six confirmed kills in a minute and a half. And that was triggered by one of the terrorists pushing him around when he trying get some information by posing as a journalist.

So Guiseppe pushed his fear down to where Henrietta would not see it. He knew what they faced now and they would deal with it.

They were on the Hellmouth, and they were fighting vampires.

All Italian intelligence and security officers were briefed on the supernatural. What it was, what they were capable of, how to defend yourself. Responsibility for dealing with them was given to a special Carabinieri (paramilitary police) unit that worked closely with the Vatican. If any other agency made contact with the supernatural they were to withdraw and report it to headquarters, which would call out the special unit.

But according to that strange red-headed ghost girl, they were on a mystical convergence in California, that the energy given off by the convergence attracted supernatural creatures. Like vampires.

They had been walking for only a few minutes when a scantily clad red-headed girl had come up running up to them. Given how she was dressed, Guiseppe was reminded of some of the stories Hilshire had told them about working the Interpol child sex crimes unit in Amsterdam. He could see that she was no threat to them, but that did not keep Henrietta from turning so that she was between her and Guiseppe.

"Xander! Dawn! You've got to help me, there is strange magic going on and it's affected most of the kids trick or treating tonight!" The girl came to a halt a couple of steps in front of them and managed to get her words out in one quick breath.

"Young lady, I do not know what you are talking about." Both Guiseppe and Henrietta spoke fluent English, although they both still had faint accents.

"Ohmygod, you are under the spell too. First I turn into a ghost and Buffy turns into a noblewoman and now you two are. . ." The girl waved her hand at the two of them, unable to say any more.

"Look, magic exists, and you are on a mystical convergence called the Hellmouth, it puts out a lot of bad magic and it affects magic spells too. I think someone cast a spell on our costumes, and that's why we were all affected."

Guiseppe and Henrietta were looking at her in disbelief when they heard growling coming from the side. Turning, the three saw a small group of what looked to be miniature monsters coming toward them. It would have been laughable if the small wolves and Frankenstein monsters didn't have real faces that showed wicked looking teeth and fangs.

Guiseppe and Henrietta had been bringing their guns to bear when the ghost screamed at them. "No, don't hurt them!!! They're little kids, they don't know what they are doing, don't shoot them!!!"

Guiseppe decided to give the ghost the benefit of the doubt. Looking over at the cyborg, he softly said, "Drive them off, non-lethal force only, Henrietta."

Henrietta did not look happy at the order, but she carried it out anyway. With a shout, she jumped into the group and started to kick and punch at them, not using her full strength, but enough that the enspelled children were soon running off.

Once the young cyborg walked back to Guiseppe, they both looked at the red headed ghost again. "What was this about magic turning people into their costumes?" Guiseppe asked.

The girl explained that the two of them were under the same spell, that people wearing costumes were turned into what they were wearing. Henrietta did not take this well.

"You mean to say that were are not who we really are, that we are just. . . magical constructs?" Henrietta was turning pale. The red-headed ghost looked worried but nodded.

Henrietta dropped to her knees, hugging herself as she began to shiver. "I am not magic, I am a real girl," she began repeating to herself. It looked like the events were causing the young girl to go into shock.

Slowly, Guiseppe dropped down beside her and put his hands on her shoulders. Seeing his charge's tear streaked face turn up to look at him, he whispered "You are a real girl, my real girl." With that Henrietta stopped shivering and hugged him tightly in return, a smile on her face.

After that, the ghost asked for their help. A friend of her's had been transformed into an 18th century noblewoman, and was helpless against everything that was running around that night. The ghost had tried to lead her to safety, but the girl had screamed and run off.

Now Guiseppe and Henrietta were jogging at a ground-eating pace, following the red-headed ghost as they searched the area for her friend. The occasional monster they came across was driven off with some warning shots or a flying kick from Henrietta.

But now they had found the friend, and the situation did not look good. The girl was surrounded by a group of what looked like real vampires, led by a bleached blond male that looked like a punk rocker.

The red-headed ghost gasped as she saw who was holding her friend. "That's Spike, he's a Master Vampire."

"What do we do now?" Asked Guiseppe, holding his pistol low. So far, the vampires had not seen them.

The red-headed ghost looked at them with fear in her eyes as she spoke.

"These ones you can kill."

**End Part Three**


	4. Chapter 4

Fratello

**Part Four**

Sunnydale,  
Evening.

Spike had not been planning to have the night of his unlife.

He had been planning to stay in with Drusilla and watch the telly, sipping on a warm mug of blood. Everyone knew that Halloween was a quiet night for the undead and demonic, so he planned to cuddle up with his Dru and watch 'It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown' which gave her the giggles, for some reason.

But the minions that he had sent out for some take-away came back with some interesting news. There was weird magic in the air, causing people to become the costumes they were wearing.

Spike thought about going out for a look-see, but the idea of going up against magical cops, cowboys, monsters and demons that didn't follow the normal rules didn't have much appeal. He had his Dru and blood to drink, why mess with that?

It wasn't until Dalton came in and told him that the Slayer had been affected by the spell that his interest was grabbed. And once he heard from the studious vampire that the bloody Slayer was now a helpless eighteenth century lady, he jumped to his feet and made ready to leave. It was only Dru's whimpering that caused him to pause.

He knew that Dru was a few quarts short of a keg, but he also knew that her occasional feelings and visions had a disturbing tendency to become true. That was one of the reasons the Poofer had turned her. . . that and that he was a sadistic bastard who enjoyed torturing the innocent girl Dru had once been.

What was different now was that Dru was muttering something in what he recognized was Italian. He knew enough of the language to buy a pack of cigs, but not much beyond that.

Kneeling down in front of her, he gently shook her. "Ducks, what's wrong? What are you Seeing?"

The dark haired vampire's eyes slowly focused on him, and Spike could see the fear pooling in them. "The two faced man is angry, a dark man was playing with his toys and he is not pleased."

Spike sighed to himself. The bad part of Drusilla's Gift was twofold. There was a lot of dross he had to go through to find the gold nuggets of information that Dru's visions produced. That and the fact that Dru **never** gave a straight answer regarding her visions. At least this wasn't as bad as the time that the cheese man told her that Prague was a nice place to visit in the spring.

"Angry he is, the glorious one wants to tear down the pretty house of cards, and the two faced man wants to stop her."

Drusilla looked sharply at Spike, the insanity clearing for a moment. "Death has a sibling, they walk tonight, the yin and the yang of this world. Not of the same blood, their love will shake the Earth, for they are of the true power of the Heavens."

"What power is that, luv?" Spike was getting a little concerned. The clearer the description from Dru about her visions, the more likely they were to come true.

"Chance. . . Luck. . . .Chaos. They are the loose shoe nail that throws the rider from his horse, the plan overheard that loses the battle, the black ice that caused you to slip." Drusilla giggled and began to rock back and forth.

Spike stood and looked at his sire. She was more batty than a belfry, to be sure, but only a fool disregarded her mad ramblings. It was like playing Russian roulette with a pistol that someone else loaded. It could be empty, it could have one bullet, it could be full. But going against a True Vision, which this may or may not be, was a fine way to get your head blown off.

"Dru, the Slayer is out there under this spell. This may be the best chance we get to take her out."

"And a proper lady she is. Tea and crumpets, needles and thread. Waiting for her White Knight to save her."

Spike had not made it to Master Vampire status by being foolhardy. Impatience was a problem he had, but generally he knew when he should wait and when he should go charging in. The trick was knowing when was the time. Right now was the chance to bag a third Slayer with hardly any work at all. But if the Chaos his Dru had warned about came to pass, all bets were off.

Looking down at Drusilla, Spike thought of a motto he had seen once on a hat badge once, on a sand colored beret he had seen at a military curio store. He asked the clerk about it, thinking that the badge looked pretty cool.

What he had though was a winged dagger was actually the Sword of Damocles, a sword that had been suspended over someone's head by a thin thread. The wings were actually flames, as the sword fell from the heavens. Spike never forgot the motto written on a scroll across it.

Who Dares Wins.

"Ducks, I'm going to get some cigs and a pint. I'll be back in a while." Bending down, Spike kissed Drusilla on the forehead.

Watching as Spike and a group of minions left the room, leaving only Dalton to care for her, Drusilla began to softly sing.

_Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,  
to save a wretch like me.  
I once was Lost, but now I am Found,  
was Blind, but now I See. . ._

Now Spike had everything the way it should be. Finding the Slayer had been a bit of work, but now the four vampires he had with him were surrounding the hysterical girl. He had almost not recognized the Slayer, but under the stench of magic he could smell the scent of the vanilla shampoo the girl favored. It was her, all right.

Spike almost felt bad for the bint, but he had learned a long time ago to always take advantage of what dropped into his hands. Once he dealt with her, not only would he get a power boost from the blood, but he would be third in line on the Slayer Killer list, behind only The Master and Kakistos.

"Let her go!!! Don't hurt her!!!" Some red-headed chit in skimpy clothing screamed at them as she ran up and stopped a few meters away. "Don't do it!!!"

Spike raised his head from the neck of the sobbing Slayer. Glaring at his minions, he jerked his head toward the red-head and snarled. "There's your dinner, now shut her up so I can eat."

Two vampires rushed the red-head and tried to grab her, but their hands actually past through the girl. Shocked. they tried again, with the same results. As one turned to the other and began to say "She's a ghost?", his words were drowned out by a loud stuttering roar. All the vampires were shocked as the first vampire's head blew apart and then the rest of him turned to dust.

Spinning to the sound of the roar, they could see a man in a suit walking toward them, some kind of futuristic machine gun at his shoulder. As they registered what they were seeing, the gun at the man's shoulder roared again and the second vampire staggered as his head exploded and his body dusted.

"Kill him! Kill the git!" Spike screamed at his two remaining minions as his arm tightened around the Slayer. He had no illusions as to the likely success of his orders, but it would buy him time to escape with the Slayer.

Just as he was turning to get away from the slaughter, something hit him in the small of the back **hard**, causing him to stagger and almost fall. Only the fact that he had been turning kept his spine from being snapped in two.

Completing the turn, Spike was shocked to see a young girl in a school uniform in a crouched ready position. From the strength of the hit, Spike had been expecting to see a demon, but this bit looked like she was barely in high school.

"Let go of the girl." The girl had a faint Italian accent, and for some reason Spike's blood ran even colder.

"Like Hell!!!" Spike looked around frantically, but all he saw was the red-headed ghost and the guy in the suit. He had slung his machine gun and was now aiming a large pistol at Spike. The minions were nowhere in sight, probably dust now.

"You are in no position to argue, your men are dead and we have you triangulated." The man's voice was cold, confident, and had the same Italian accent.

"You make a move and I'll snap this bint's neck! Back off!!!" Spike grabbed the Slayer's chin in one hand and her shoulder with the other. With one hard pull, not only would her neck break, but her head could very probably be torn off her body.

"You kill the girl and you will be dust a moment later." The man had moved closer, standing a mere three meters away, holding his pistol in a perfect marksman stance.

Spike had been in worst situations before, but he was hard-pressed to come up with one right now. There was a heavily armed marksman in front of him, and an unknown threat behind him. He was holding a hostage, but that was the only thing keeping him in one piece right now. There was cover behind him, but he had to get past the chit.

Thinking furiously, Spike came up with a plan. It had a decent chance of working, but it depended on two factors he had not shown yet.

"Look mate, I just wanted a nibble, but hey, no harm no foul, right?" Spike moved his hands so they were both on the Slayer's shoulders. "Let's just call it square and leave it at that?"

The man saw that Spike had moved his hands from the Slayer's neck and relaxed a fraction, his pistol muzzle dipping the merest bit. That was the mistake Spike had been waiting for.

Pushing as hard as he could, Spike threw the Slayer at the man, who barely had time to yank his pistol out of the way before the girl impacted against him, causing them both to fall to the ground. Spike barely saw this, as he spun and ran full speed toward the girl behind him, intending to run her over and keep going. But to his shock, the girl spun in place and kicked him in the chest, not only halting his forward motion, but throwing him back again.

Spike was barely able to keep his footing when the bit charged him, unleashing a snap kick that nearly took his head off. Dodging with an inch to spare, he responded with a kung fu punch combination that should have reduced her ribs to powder, but the bit slipped right and left, evading the crushing blows as though she could read his moves as soon as he started to move.

Letting his true demonic face show, Spike immediately attacked again with as much speed and strength that he could muster. The girl instantly responded, her punches, kicks and evasions flashing out almost too fast to follow.

As the two combatants were locked in their lethal dance, Spike automatically catalogued the moves in the girl's fighting style. It looked like a military derivative, with the dodges and evasions from aikido, the kicks from tai kwon do, and the punches and blocks from krav maga and shokotan karate. Spike was dead certain about the last; the bit's punches had nearly blasted through his blocks, even with vampire strength.

Growing increasingly panicked, Spike unleashed his fastest assault yet, using every bit of speed his undead body could produce. His arms blurring, Spike went through every attack combination in his repertoire, pulling out every trick he could from the styles he had studied, ranging from pencak silat to cockney street fighting.

Finally, the girl's guard slipped the tiniest bit, and Spike immediately took advantage of it. His left fist brushed past the bit's rising block and crashed into her right cheek, throwing the girl back ten feet before falling like a sack of potatoes.

Spike spun in place and was ready to run as fast and as far as he could, as long he could get away from that inhuman girl, when he stopped dead in his tracks. The man in the suit had apparently reloaded his machine gun, as it was pointed right at his face. But when the man spoke, it was not toward Spike.

"Henrietta, what was taking you so long?" 

"This is the first time I have fought someone was close to my skill level who was not a fratello," came the soft reply. 

Turning so that he could keep an eye on the man, Spike was shocked to see the bit back up and under her own power. The blow he had landed should have crushed half the bones in her skull; instead he saw the merest reddish splotch on her face.

"What the Hell are you people!?!? Spike roared, his unbeating heart constricting in his chest. The blow that had connected would have leveled a mid-level demon. This girl looked like someone had barely tagged her.

"Would you believe we are just tourists here?" The girl asked semi-seriously. Seeing the look of disbelief on the vampire's face, the girl continued. "We do not know where we are or how we got here. What we do know is that you prey upon the weak and the helpless. You are what we destroy."

_'They're bloody anime characters, that's why she's so damn fast,' _Spike thought to himself. '_Must be from some action story. I've gotta get the Hell away from them!!!'_

"What country are you supposed to be from, anyway? You don't sound like Yanks." Spike carefully placed his feet, bracing himself.

"We are from _Italia_." Guiseppe might have said more, but Spike suddenly launched himself at him, willing to risk being shot rather than go hand-to-hand again with the girl. Guiseppe, not being caught off-guard again, fired a four round burst into the oncoming vampire's chest.

Spike fell to the ground in a screaming heap. Or nearly screaming, as the 5.7mm rounds had tumbled and shredded his lungs and ribs. One slug smashed into his spine and cut the spinal cord, leaving him paralyzed from the neck down.

After a long moment of strangely burning numbness, Spike felt someone kick him in the side and roll him over on his back, to be greeted by the sight of the two looking down at him.

"You should not have done that, mister vampire. Guiseppe is a very good shot." The girl looked kind of sad at what had happened. Reaching behind her back, the girl produced a kukri knife, the curved blade three-quarters the size of a normal one, but effective looking none the less.

Dropping to one knee beside the crippled vampire, the girl raised the blade to shoulder height. Fixing her eyes on his, she softly murmured "I'm sorry," before doing an expert twirling slash at his neck.

William the Bloody ignored the gleaming blade coming toward him. Instead, the last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him was the bright hazel green eyes of his executioner.

Sunnydale High School Library  
The Next Day  
Early Morning

Xander Harris tried not to be obvious about his watching Dawn Summers, but he had the feeling he was failing miserably. Dawn was doing a superb job of doing the same, however.

After they had taken out Spike the night before, Giles had driven up in his crappy old Citroen car and Willow had explained everything that had happened. Figuring out that their costumes had been involved in the magic that had taken place that night, they decided that further investigation was needed.

Upon arriving at the costume shop, Guiseppe and Henrietta had performed a forced hostile entry with their weapons at the ready. Giles had come in behind them, visibly nervous about the display of firearms by the pair. But it had turned out that the forced entry had been unnecessary.

After a quick search of the deserted sales area of the store, the trio had found their subject in the back stock room. Ethan Rayne had been laying dead on the floor of the stock room, a look of shock and horror etched on his face. The pieces of a bust that Giles had recognized of that of Janus, Roman God of Chaos, was scattered in front of him.

Giles theorized that Rayne had attempted to cast a chaos spell and had invoked the ancient god to power the spell. But for some unknown reason, perhaps the fact that they were on the Hellmouth, the spell had literally blown up in Rayne's face. It appeared that the spell had gone into effect anyway, as evidenced by the events of the night.

After Giles had finished his search of the stock room for any other dangerous magical artifacts, the trio had returned to Giles' car, where a nervous ghost and a woozy noblewoman had been waiting for them. Giles had just begun to explain what had happened to Willow when Xander's watch beeped, signaling that it was now 12:00 AM, midnight.

Giles watched helplessly as the four teens stiffened, shuddered for a moment, and then collapsed to the ground. Xander and Dawn recovered almost immediately, but Willow and Buffy were weakened by what had taken place, and were carried to Giles' car. Giles and Xander had been occupied with caring for Willow, who was barely conscious, so they did not realize that Dawn picked up and carried her older sister effortlessly to the car.

After taking Buffy and Dawn to their home, and explaining to their frantic mother that they had taken shelter at the school during the 'disturbances' that had occurred while the children had been trick-or-treating, Giles, Xander and Willow had helped other school staff round up the various lost and crying elementary school children wandering the streets and reuniting them with their families. After all the children had been accounted for and returned, Giles had dropped off Xander and Willow at their homes to try and get some rest in the few hours left before school started the following day.

Xander had barely enough energy to strip off his suit and carefully hang it up before he collapsed on his bed. His sleep had not been a restful one, as memories that he knew were not his own flooded his dreams that night.

. . .Growing up the younger son of a well-to-do family in Italy. . .

. . .The horror of his young sister and his older brother's fiancée being killing by a terrorist bombing while he was serving in the Carabinieri. . .

. . .His decision to join SISDE's anti-terrorist unit. His recruitment into the Social Welfare Agency and the Section Two counter-terror unit. . .

. . .His revulsion upon hearing of the cyborg project and its subjects. His grudging acceptance of the goals of the project. . .

. . .Looking through the observation window and seeing the mind-numbed little girl in the hospital ward, witness and victim to unspeakable horrors, now a orphaned triple amputee and suicidally depressed. His older brother, now the field commander in Section Two, whispering that he could make it better for the girl. . .

. . .Elsa and Lauro's deaths, and how Henrietta demonstrated to the two Section One agents who caused them and why. . .

After tossing and turning for a couple of hours, Xander finally gave in to the inevitable and got up to go to school. After staring at the clothes hanging in his closet for a minute, Xander finally selected a dark blue polo shirt and khaki slacks instead of his normal loud shirt and jeans. For some reason, he did not find dressing that way appealing anymore. A light khaki jacket completed the outfit.

Getting to the library early, Xander expected to be there alone, before Giles normally arrived. He was surprised therefore to see Dawn sitting at the big table, carefully flipping through one of Giles' ancient tomes.

"Good morning, Xander," the younger girl greeted him absentmindedly. Or it would have been if Xander had not seen Dawn's eyes carefully watching him from under her bangs. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Not so great. Didn't get much sleep, decided to came in and talk with Giles before class." Xander had sat down in front of her. "How are you feeling, Dawnie?"

"Dawn. Please call me Dawn." She raised her head up from the book she had been looking at and gazed at him with her hazel green eyes. "I feel rather good, actually. I didn't need any sleep once I got home, so I read for a while and decided to come to school once the sun rose." For some reason, Dawn had a faint accent to her speech, barely noticeable to anyone but her family and friends.

"How much do you remember about Henrietta?" Xander dreaded asking this question, but it had to be done.

"Everything. All her training. The missions she was on. Her life at Section Two." Dawn's gaze did not waver from Xander. "I don't remember her life from before she joined Section Two, just the generalities, if that's what you are asking."

"Yeah." Xander felt a bit of relief at that news. The actual memories of the attack on Henrietta's family were not something he would wish on his worst enemy. "Anything else?"

"You already know about our equipment." For some reason, the weapons and ammo had remained after the spell had dissipated. Xander had stashed the violin case with the submachine gun and the grenades in a secure place, but Dawn had insisted on keeping her personal weapons the night before, and Xander had not been eager to force the issue with her sister and mother nearby. He kept his set as well, but was only carrying the combat folder knife and a stake right now.

Dawn slowly stood up from the table, revealing what she was wearing. It was not the outfit from the night before, but it came close. She was wearing a white short sleeved blouse that was open at the collar and a skirt that that came to just above her knees. On anyone else the outfit would have looked almost plain, but on Dawn it only served to emphasize the curves on her slender body, as well as make her legs seem almost impossibly long.

Walking around the table, Dawn stopped in front of Xander, who had also come to his feet. "It seems like I kept Henrietta's physical abilities. Want me to try for another back flip?"

"No!!!" Xander took a giant step back and held his hands up in a warding gesture. "It's ok, really."

Dawn gave a half smile that suddenly faded from her face. She took a half step that left her just out of arms reach of Xander. "You're not. . . frightened of me, are you? Of what I did last night?"

Xander stood his ground, even though his gut was telling him to run far away. "I'm not frightened of you, Dawnie. I'm just afraid that what you might be feeling is not really you. That it's just remains of the spell."

flashback

"Any questions?"

Both the cyborg girl and the ghost girl shook their heads. Guiseppe had given a quick field brief on vampires to Henrietta, which she had absorbed without comment. He then outlined his plan to rescue the Slayer girl, setting the ghost girl to be the first distraction, himself as the second distraction and the frontal assault, tasked with killing as many vampires as possible, and Henrietta as the flanking attack, tasked with rescuing the girl and then cleaning up whatever was left. Henrietta had been unhappy that she would not be at his side during the attack, but agreed with his plan.

"Miss, take your position please." The ghost girl nodded again and moved off. She was to run in front of the vampires in 60 seconds, after which Guiseppe would start his own attack.

Checking the P90 to make sure it was fully loaded, he made sure that he had a spare 50 round magazine and a couple of mini-shock grenades in his pockets. Guiseppe looked up to see that Henrietta was still standing in front of him. 

"Is there something else, Henrietta?" Guiseppe could see that the cyborg girl was nervous about something.

"I'm sorry, Guiseppe." The girl took a half step forward. Given her new body and height, Henrietta was almost face-to-face with him. "There is something I must do."

Moving too fast for him to react, Henrietta leaned forward and kissed Guiseppe on the lips. The kiss lasted for only a few seconds, and was fairly inexperienced, but he could feel the heat and emotion radiating off the girl, as though she was pouring everything she had into it. 

"I'm sorry, Guiseppe! I had to do it!" The girl took a step back, fear on her face. "I have had these feelings for as long as I have known you, but they are stronger now. I protect you with my life. I would rather die than let you get hurt! But I can't tell you that I. . . that I. . ." Tears started to stream down her cheeks.

Guiseppe watched wide-eyed as Henrietta clenched her hands and bowed her head. After a moment she snapped her head up, her blazing green eyes almost glowing in the dark of night. 

"I love you, Guiseppe!!! Even if you don't feel the same toward me, I love you!!! I will love you until the day I die!!!"

With a choked sob, Henrietta pulled herself together. "I have to go, Willow is about to start the distraction." Spinning around, she disappeared into darkness.

Frozen for a second, Guiseppe moved as he realized that she was right, that that assault was about to start. Bringing the SMG to the ready position, he moved forward.

Softly, so that even he could barely hear it, Guiseppe whispered to himself.

"I love you too, Henrietta. I will love you until the day I die."

end flashback

Dawn took another half step forward. "I told you, don't call me Dawnie. I'm Dawn Summers. It would do you well to remember that."

Xander was frozen in place as Dawn stopped right in front of him, just like the night before. "I remember how I felt about you before the spell last night. I remember how Henrietta felt about Guiseppe. And I know how I feel for you now."

"And?" Xander was barely able to choke the word out.

"I had a massive crush on you before last night. Henrietta loves Guiseppe with all her heart and soul. And now. . ."

"And now you want to spend the rest of your life with him."

Xander and Dawn whirled around at the sound of the female voice coming from the stacks. Even as they turned, Dawn stepped in front of Xander, getting between him and the voice as Xander's hand went under his jacket.

"Linked but not joined. Fated but not destined. Two that can act as one. What more can be asked of the gods?" Two cloaked and hooded figures stepped out of the stacks. One was holding a crossbow but was carrying it at a low ready position, not pointed directly at the two teens. The other figure took one more step and then stopped, a few feet from the pair.

"Rejoice, for you have been blessed by the Powers, so that you can do more than you have thought possible." The leading figure lowered the hood and showed her face.

"Drusilla." While Xander softly said the name in disbelief, Dawn almost growled it. She took one step forward, her hands flexing in preparation.

"No, no, no, no time for that my dearie. I do not come to harm you, I merely bring news for you. A messenger, if you will."

"Most messengers don't bring armed back-up, Drusilla." Xander placed his hand on Dawn's shoulder, halting her advance.

"Dalton? He is here to keep certain people from acting precipitously." Drusilla leaned forward and placed a finger across her lips, looking like she was about to reveal a secret. "Some of your group has been know to act before they think."

"What do you want, Drusilla?" Dawn's tone was almost polite, if it was not detracted by the ready stance she had automatically taken.

"I felt it, you know. I felt it when you killed my William. I had warned him that Death was walking the night, but he went out anyway. Now he will be part of the dark forever, my poor Spike," Drusilla casually stepped over to a chair and sat down, looking like nothing more than a proper Victorian lady.

"But when I was crying alone in my lair, I heard a voice. This was not like the stars that speak to me, it was calm and sure and gave me a warm feeling here." Drusilla laid her hand upon her chest. "This voice told me that I had a choice to make, and he gave me a vision to show what could happen."

"I had to decide, did I want to live or die? I saw myself hiding in my lair, slowly starving to death, killed by the Slayer when I finally came out to feed. Or do I let him join part of him to me and help heal my body and mind, and help those who would need it? To help those that would be helping, and guide them on the right path?"

Drusilla tilted her head slightly. "You do not really know what happened last night, the whys and the what-fors of the magic that affected you?" Both Xander and Dawn shook their heads. "Do you know what the greatest power that exist is?"

"I take it it's not love?" Xander could not help the wisecrack.

"No dear boy. It is not love that caused a comet to hit this world and kill the great lizards. It is not love that that formed the mountains and the seas. Love can drive people, but love does not push the boulder off the cliff."

"The greatest power is Chaos. Chaos causes plants to grow. Chaos causes the rivers to flow. Chaos is in every living and moving thing in this world. Without Chaos, there would be no light, no love, no life."

"Janus." It was almost a whisper, but they all heard Dawn speak. "Janus is who spoke to you."

"Correct, dearie. That nasty man last night called on his power to perform his spell, but he was not pleased by what he intended. That is why he changed what happened, why things are now how they are."

"You're saying that these changes are permanent?" Xander could not keep the shock out of his voice.

"Only you two, and it is not what you think. There are two beliefs that he lives by, and that is why you have to make the decision for yourself."

"Alexander, what is the one gift that the Creator gave Man that no other creature possesses? It is a gift that even the Angels did not receive, one that caused the War in Heaven."

"Free Will." Xander didn't know how but the answer popped into his head. "Man can control who he is and what he can do."

"Correct!" Drusilla clapped her hands together. "By living within the beliefs of Free Will and Chaos, Janus has given you powers and skills so that you can help others and each other. But you have to decide that you want to do it. Janus is not going to make you do what you do not want to. But he can present you with the choice, and show you what can result because of it. And only the two of you can make this choice, you can not ask others for their help in this decision." 

Drusilla stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from her gown. "Last night Janus showed you how you can help those that can not help themselves. But he also showed you what can happen when people abuse the powers that they do have. Even if it did not happen to you, you have the memories of it."

"One more thing. The feelings you have now are essentially the same as they were before. The feelings of who you were last night were of those people. The only things that have changed is that you can see what can become, and you may now react somewhat differently because of it."

Drusilla stepped toward the stacks and the other waiting vampire. "Consider your choices carefully. Right or wrong, yes or no, your actions will always have repercussions. And when you two have made your choices, I will know and find you. I promise no harm will befall you either way."

"Wait." Dawn's voice caused Drusilla to halt in place. "I already know what my decision is. I want to do this."

Drusilla turned and faced the pair again. "And you, Alexander? Do you already know what you will choose?"

"Yes." Xander stepped up beside Dawn on her right. "There really was not much of a choice, even if Dawn wasn't involved."

Raising a finger, Drusilla focused intently on Xander. "This decision should not be made out of obligation or fear, Alexander. You alone have to want to do this."

"I do. I'm in." Xander looked back at the vampire and spoke with total conviction.

"If you are both agreeing," Drusilla saw that the two teens nodded in agreement, "Then by the power invested in me by Janus, the Roman God of Chaos and of the Past and Future, I now pronounce you. . ." Drusilla saw the two teens' eyes get huge, ". . .Champion and Companion."

Given the face fault that nearly dropped the two teens to the floor, Drusilla could not help but laugh, a silvery giggle that was at odds with her reputation. "Oh you two, you should have seen the looks on your faces!" Drusilla continued to laugh as Xander and Dawn pulled themselves together.

"I will return in a few days time to discuss what needs to be done, but for now tell no one of your powers or our arrangement. They may not understand." The two teens nodded again in agreement.

Raising her hood again, Drusilla stepped into the stacks, the other vampire following her. "Farewell, brave warriors," her voice floated out of the stacks as she disappeared into the shadows.

**End Part Four**


	5. Chapter 5

_Note 1: The secret to fanfic writing - don't write at home on a futon couch. Go to your local library or an IHOP._**  
**

**Chapter Five**

Sunnydale Park,  
Sunnydale, Calif.  
Fifteen minutes after sunset.  
A week after the Halloween Incident.

Given that Sunnydale was the center of strange and unusual things in the Western United States, he should not have been surprised to see what he did. But La Boca Del Inferno surprised him yet again.

Who would have expected to see Drusilla, Master Vampire and Seer, a charter member of the Scourge of Europe, primly riding side-saddle with her head tilted back and eyes closed on a metal horse on a merry-go-round in the park?

Xander Harris and Dawn Summer stood for a few moments and watched Dalton, Drusilla's vampire companion, slowly push the carousel in between scanning the surrounding area. Dalton certainly saw them once they entered the playground, but only spoke when the two teens got close to the vampire pair.

"Mistress Drusilla, your company is here." Dalton stopped pushing the carousel, which slowly came to a stop with the vampiress in front of the teens. She lowered her head and opened her eyes, blinking slowly as she focused on them.

"Good evening Miss Dawn, Alexander. A pleasant night, is it not?"

"Kind of quiet, don't get enough of those lately." Xander replied while Dawn scanned the area around them herself.

"Too true. Not many people appreciate when it is quiet around them. And this nice balmy weather makes it more pleasant to stargaze. I did not have many chances to do so before." Drusilla's eyes moved from Xander to Dawn and back again. "It's difficult to appreciate the night sky when the stars are whispering in your mind."

Gracefully standing from the carousel horse, Drusilla took Dalton's offered hand and stepped onto the rubber mat surrounding the playground. Raising a black lace shawl over her hair, Drusilla took Xander's left arm in hand and began to slowly walk, Dawn on the opposite side and slightly behind while Dalton was a step ahead them.

"You have had a week to get accustomed to your new abilities, Alexander. What thoughts come to mind about them?" Drusilla kept her eyes ahead of them, but Xander could feel her attention on him regardless.

"I thought that having these new powers would help us a lot, but now I see that they have complications as well."

"Such as?" Drusilla continued walking.

"While I have the memories of Giuseppe Croce and some of his abilities, I need to get in better physical shape to take advantage of all them." Xander glanced over at the vampire. "Dawn, however, seems to have all her physical abilities and strengths. Her skills are present, but the memories of Henrietta seem a bit. . . spotty."

"That is how it is supposed to be. Due to her. . . 'conditioning' I believe it was called; Henrietta had troubles with certain aspects of her memory. This to due to the efforts to wipe out certain parts of her life, to prevent it from impacting on her use by those who created her."

Xander nodded. He could see how the Social Welfare Agency would not want their expensive cyborg assassins to be affected by the traumas in their previous life. Given what he knew about the other girls, it was a toss-up to who had the worst memories, Henrietta being the lone survivor of a sadistic serial rapist and killer that had assaulted and maimed her next to the dead bodies of her family or Triela, barely surviving, if you could call it that, being the subject of a torture and snuff video in Amsterdam.

"There is something else that came up. Dawn discovered it by accident the other day." Hearing her name, Dawn halted and let the two come up to her. Seeing Xander nod, she began to speak.

"I was doing the dishes at home when I broke a drinking glass. I was scrubbing it when it broke, and a couple of pieces cut me." Dawn glanced at Xander and continued. "There was blood all over my hand, and I rinsed it off in the sink so I could put a bandage on it. But when I saw the skin under the blood, there was no cut. But there was a piece of glass sticking out of the skin."

Dawn took a deep breath. "When I pulled the glass out of the skin, the cut it left behind glowed green for a couple seconds and then healed over. No scar, no mark, no nothing. What is this, this isn't part of the cyborg powers!"

"Would you mind showing me this power??" Xander and Dawn looked from Drusilla to each other, not saying a word for a long moment before Dawn gave a slight shrug. Xander responded with a small nod.

Pulling a combat folder knife from her waistband, Dawn flipped it open, and with only a slight hiss, slashed the palm of her left hand. The cut on the hand had bled only slightly before a green glow traced the edges of the wound and then faded, leaving only a few drops of blood on otherwise unmarked skin.

Reaching out, Drusilla ran a finger through the drops and brought it to her mouth, tasting the crimson fluid. Closing her eyes for a moment, Drusilla looked back at the two teens, who both had narrowed looks on their faces. Xander had his right hand under his coat, while Dawn had shifted the large folding knife to a saber grip.

"It is as I thought. The Magicks of Chaos flow through your veins, Miss Dawn. It was there before this past week, but Janus' blessing has activated it."

"What does that mean to us?" Xander's expression had relaxed, but his hand was still on his weapon.

"It means you have to be careful of who knows of Miss Dawn's Gifts. It is not a danger in itself, but like all things, it can be twisted and abused, resulting in great harm." Drusilla did not react to Dawn's and Xander's wary stances, but instead turned to look up in the sky.

"Why would Dawn have Chaos Magicks in her? Is it part of the spell? Do I have it too?" Xander asked in some concern.

"Dawn has a Destiny that was a part of her before the spell took place. It is not a Destiny like the Slayer has, in that you Chose to fight. It is a Destiny where Life and Existence will hang in the balance. That part you have no control over. What you can do is act on your own to what will happen.

"You do not have these magicks in you, Alexander. The gifts you have do not include this, so you must maintain a modicum of sensibility, for Miss Dawn's sake if not yours." Drusilla said the last with a faint smile on her lips.

Only by looking squarely at him could it be seen, but a slight flush appeared on Xander's face. He knew that he had been affected less mentally than Dawn had been by the Chaos spell, so more of his original personality remained after that night. That personality had almost gotten him and Dawn in trouble the week before.

Sunnydale High School,  
Lunch Time,  
Three Days After Halloween.

Xander was trying to decide between subtlety and brute force.

Subtlety had its good points; he would be able to achieve the objective without the student body being the wiser. In his head he had the techniques necessary to do so. On the other hand, brute force had a certain visceral satisfaction that had been recently lacking in his life.

The problem had been raised time and time again. The administration had done nothing to resolve it. So it now fell to Alexander Harris, Esquire, to deal with it.

Just as Xander said to Hell with it and was starting to wind up to kick the thieving soda machine, an unwelcome voice interrupted the process.

"Hey Harris, I want to ask you something." Larry Blaisdell, Sunnydale High's answer to humanity's missing link, was standing behind him.

Xander was of two minds about the hulking football player. Most of the time the guy was living up to the stereotype of the typical high school jock. But on some rare occasions, an uncertainty showed through his eyes, as though he did not quite want to be doing what he did.

"You're pretty close to Buffy Summers, right? Is it true that she's a fast girl?" Larry shuffled forward and looked down at his classmate.

Xander gave a mental blink at the question. While Larry was a jock, he really was not a sports fan, so the only way he would be interested if a girl was fast was if. . .

Larry may not have been the swiftest thinker in the school, but he did have access to some instincts that most people did not use often. This had served him well in football, where sometimes plays happened too fast to think through, when he knew the opposing player was faking or not.

Asking Harris if Summers was easy sounded like a good idea - most guys would give out that information, and if he didn't or he got pissy about it, it wasn't like he couldn't pound the punk into the ground. But for some reason, looking at the suddenly stiffened posture of the smaller teen in front of him, an alarm bell started to go off in the back of his head.

"I hope you mean 'fast like the wind', Larry." Xander turned so that he was facing the jock, his body at a slight angle, his right foot half a step behind the left.

"What are you talking about, Harris? I'm asking if Summers puts. . ." Larry's voice trailed off as he saw something he had never seen in the daylight - the humanity draining out of someone's eyes.

Having been born and raised in town, Larry knew something about what happened in Sunnydale after dark. Not that he knew about the supernatural per se, but he knew about the 'gang members on PCP' that were always blamed by the police for the high numbers of assaults and attacks in this little town. He had even seen some of the fights they had been involved in at the Bronze with Summers and her crew. It was on the faces of those gang members that he had seen the same look that was on Harris' face now - one that promised a world of hurt to anyone on the receiving end.

The other thing that Larry had learned in football was to never back down. If the opposing players saw that you were scared or intimidated, they would run right over you, sometimes literally. Given the frission of fear that Larry felt when Xander fixed him with those cold brown eyes, there was only one way for him to respond.

"Look you little asswipe, I don't care what you think, I just want to have a good time, and if Summers puts out then. . ." Larry took a step toward Xander, his fist coming up to beat some fear into the other teen when three things happened almost at once. The first was Harris' left hand coming up, his hand flat, palm down and thumb out, arcing toward his throat. But that was immediately ignored as searing pain suddenly spiked through his torso.

Larry had once been knocked to the ground and had another player land on his side knee first, the pain stunning him for more than a few moments. That was nothing compared to what he felt now. Something hit him **hard** in the lower back, right below the ribs, and the agony that blasted from his kidney to his diaphragm and lungs locked them up, leaving him temporarily unable to breathe. But even that was forgotten as something slammed into the back of his right knee, collapsing it. Combined with the force of the blow to his back, Larry was thrown past Xander, who had sidestepped as he was fell forward and down, his body losing it's balance until he smacked head first into the soda machine.

Laying on the floor of the school break room, watching the halo of tweety birds flying around his head, Larry was barely able to hear a young female voice cry out, "I'm so sorry! I tripped and my bag hit your leg! Are you ok?" Holding up a hand, the girl asked, "Did you hit your head? How many fingers do you see?"

Trying to focus on the wavering fingers in front of him, Larry looked at the freshman girl in front of him, who looked familiar for some reason. After a few moments, Larry was able to gasp out his answer.

"Orange!" The world faded out right after that.

Sunnydale Park,  
Sunnydale, Calif.  
Early Evening  
A week after the Halloween Incident

"That was totally an accident! Besides, you would have gotten in so much trouble if you had done that done that hand strike to Larry's throat. And you got a free soda out of it!" Dawn was doing her best to look offended and innocent at the same time, and was mostly succeeding.

"I had already paid for that soda, Dawnie." Xander now used the despised nickname rarely, which is why he was not offended when Dawn stuck her tongue out at him.

Thinking back to the near fight he had with Larry, Xander did agree with Dawn's assessment. The choke grab he was intending to use on the hulking jock would have gotten him in trouble, but that was the least obvious of the fighting tactics he knew. The problem was that Giuseppe Croce had been trained in military-style martial arts, which did not have very many non-lethal techniques. The style he remembered would have resulted in a full-out brawl with the larger classmate.

Dawn's techniques had been less noticeable but nearly lethal. Xander had barely started moving his hand up when the younger girl had appeared out of **nowhere** and performed a knuckle-fist strike to Larry's kidney. A mere moment later Dawn swung her book bag with her other hand at Larry's knee, causing him to fall forward. The force of the strike of such that Larry was thrown into the soda machine and knocked loose the can of soda that Xander had paid for but had not received.

But the_piece de resistance_ had been Dawn's act afterward. Even having watched as Dawn had blindsided Larry, Xander had trouble connecting the expressionless look on her face to the apologetic concerned student who tried to help the semi-conscious junior laying on the break room floor. Unlike what would have happened if Xander had gotten into a fight with the football player, Dawn's actions had been totally under the radar - just the way the cyborgs of Section Two had been trained to operate.

Looking from the innocent smile on Dawn's face to the faint one on Drusilla's, Xander shook his head and dropped that particular subject. "Dawn and I have done some light sparring and some katas that Giuseppe remembered, but we have not been able to train full out. Dawn won't use lethal tactics against me and there is no one out there that she can fight full out that isn't a Black Hat."

Drusilla nodded and looked up at the sky. After a few moments, the Seer looked back at them. "There is someone out there that can help you both with your training. More than one person, actually, but I rather doubt that you want to let the Slayer and the Watcher in on your secret yet."

Dawn and Xander nodded in agreement. After the Halloween incident, Buffy had gotten back to patrolling, and while she had not been too obvious about it, it was apparent that she did not want Xander involved in Slaying action if he could help it. And both Buffy and Giles had no idea that Dawn now knew about the things that went 'bump' in the night.

"I will speak with him, to let him know that you need his help. I will tell him about your powers and memories, but I will not tell him about Miss Dawn's Gift. Daddy had another path to tread, one that may be at odds with yours and therefore does not need to know everything."

"Daddy? You mean Angel don't you?" Xander's voice went flat at the mention of Drusilla's Sire.

"You must be careful, Alexander, green eyes do not become you." Drusilla's gentle rebuke brought the young man up short. Before he could start to deny that he was jealous of the souled vampire, Drusilla continued. "Daddy is the Champion of another group of beings, ones that have plans of their own. Those beings do not understand about the true nature of the universe, they seek to impose Order for their own benefit. That Order can not come about without interference, it can not stand on it's own. Such Order is the antithesis of Chaos. And Chaos is where we get our power from."

Gesturing toward Dalton, Drusilla watched as the other vampire produced a small cellular phone and handed it to Xander. "While my connection to Janus help me See, that sometimes is not as swift as the modern communications of this world. Dalton has another of these, should either of us need to speak with the other, this will make it more convenient. Or at least easier to arrange than this meeting was."

Xander nodded in agreement again. A slip of paper with elaborate Victorian handwriting had been found in his school locker this morning to set the time and place for the meeting this evening. A prepaid cell phone was much more expedient. Running through the address book showed that Dalton had already programmed the other phone's number in as well as Angel's.

Facing Xander, Drusilla slowly moved her face forward and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. Moving back, Drusilla could not miss the scowl on Dawn's face. Stepping back to Dalton, she took his arm and gave a slight curtsey. "Have a pleasant evening Alexander, Miss Dawn." Turning, the two vampires walked back into the treeline, leaving their sight just as a slight blonde figure walked out from a spot not far where they entered, saw them and marched over.

"Dawn, Xander, what are you two doing here at night?" Buffy Summers asked in a peeved tone. The Fratello pair looked at the Slayer, then at each other, and just smiled in response.

**End Chapter Five**

_Note 2: Larry's answer to the 'how many fingers am I holding up?' question comes from the movie 'Little Man Tate'._


End file.
